Marcus Deadly Class Novels & Stories

The risk of death and the feel of his fingers fucking her combined into something intoxicating. Marcus pulled into a dark, abandoned construction site on the outskirts of the city and killed the lights. He dragged her into the backseat, yanking her dress down to expose her full breasts. “These tits have been driving me crazy all night,” he growled before sucking one hard nipple into his mouth. “Marcus…ahhh!” Elena arched her back, threading her fingers through his hair as he devoured her breasts. He pushed her legs apart roughly and buried his face between her thighs.

The sound of his bones snapping was like dry tinder. "You don't understand the geography of this world, Marcus," she whispered, leaning into his face. "You were a small man in a small life, and now you are a small sacrifice." She didn't kill him with a strike. She placed her palm over his heart and siphoned every ounce of vitality he possessed—not just his energy, but his memories, his hate, his very breath. Marcus withered in seconds, turning into a grey, desiccated husk that crumbled into ash before he even hit the floor.

********* Amidst the shadows that envelop the barnhouse, Marco De Luca arrives with an air of authority, determined to extinguish the supposed threat posed by Daren. His steps echo with a lethal rhythm, resonating the impending confrontation. "Where is he?" Marco's voice cuts through the tense silence as he addresses one of his goons, his gaze piercing the room. "He's tied in that corner," Vinny replies, pointing towards an ominous darkness. “Guardia bene," Marco commands, a subtle flick of his fingers. Vinny, a close ally in Marco's trusted circle, stations two tough guys outside the barn, ready to guard against any unexpected trouble.

“That was only going to kill him. Maybe parts of you, but only small parts. Tiny little parts that would have also rejoiced in the bloodshed. Sure, Sweet Marie would have died, but Bloodthirsty Marie would have been born. And it would have been something . . . desirable. Something you wanted. Like putting your jaws to a bleeding throat. But this? This will kill all of you. It will kill your soul.” “I don’t care about my soul. I want to know if it will work.” “Don’t do it. Please don’t do it.” If he carried storms in his eyes, she carried desolation in hers. “Don’t you understand that I’m already dead?” “Marie.” “What else can be taken from me? You tell me that. What else can they take?” Lyle

“Who’d cook for you, Ms. Storm? I can’t let you starve.” “The birthday girl gets what she wants,” Logan interjects in a surprisingly kind tone. “Take the vacation, Marcus. Fully paid. You’ve earned it.” Marcus and I both freeze in stunned silence. “Really? I get whatever I want?” I blurt out, half-joking, half-hopeful. Logan narrows his eyes, regret flashing across his face as he realizes his mistake. I grin evilly. “Within reason.”

The holding pen of the Crucible was heavy with the stench of sweat, ozone, and dried blood. Marcus sat on the rusted iron bench, his massive shoulders rising and falling in a slow, controlled rhythm. He had just survived his first round in the Death Game. He had let the giant, Participant 42, shatter his own bones against the invisible Non-Newtonian Kinetic Shield. Marcus had generated enough power for the city without throwing a single punch. He looked down at his taped hands. He was ready to fight his way to the power core. He was ready to tear the Silver Spire down from the roots.

He said gently, "Sadie, let the past die with yesterday. From now on, you will be reborn anew. I hope your days from here on will be filled with joy." Standing on the rooftop, Nemera raised her champagne glass, clinking it against his before drinking it all in one breath. "Now, I have only one regret left," Nemera said softly. "What is it?" Noah asked. Nemera looked at him with a strange smile. "Well, my regret is… that you're still alive." "What did you say?" Noah's eyes widened. Suddenly, he clutched his head and dropped to his knees. "How's the champagne with a little something extra?" she asked sweetly.

“Don’t tell the other Elders. They’re such sissies that they may decide to cancel the Council meeting. We need to get all those members here so I can tell one way or another if the rumours of this war are true.” That, Marcus believed. His father had a way of sniffing out lies—his one true gift, and the reason Marcus had never lied to him before. He hadn’t been caught already because Alessandro had been distracted. Marcello DeLuca, the most loyal vampire to ever walk the earth. The perfect soldier. What a joke that was, now. Alessandro sighed, surveying the destruction. “I need someone to clean this up.”

“Class four doesn’t pay much. It's usually non-life- threatening like watching over a sick rich guy or chasing off paparazzi. Easy work.” Marcus smirked. “Usually, yes, Leah. But this time's different.” “How?” the man asked. “Because this time you're not just going to protect,” Marcus answered, his smile growing darker. “You're going to kill.”